Viktors Execution
by jcdenton2012
Summary: This is a brief story about a Commissar getting rather creative when executing some Eldar pirates.


The smell of old moldy cheese and fine wine filled the canvas command tent as the Radetzky March played in the background from an antique vinyl record player. Such technology was a rarity in this modern era of space travel where holofiles were the common method of sharing music amongst the numerous Imperial worlds. This was not to say that certain individuals of rare refinement still did not favor the old black vinyl's printed on backwater worlds.

"Commissar?" asked a tan uniformed guardsman as he ducked into the command tent. With great care a black gloved hand reached out from behind a large leather chair and removed the reading arm from the record player, halting the ancient musical notes with an abrupt screech.

"Yes guardsman?" asked a rich voice. The soldier watched, visibly shaking as this Commissar, a man named Viktor turned to face him whilst still seated within his large leather chair. Viktor was old and rugged with a large slash down the right side of his face. This battle wound had scarred out one of his eyes leaving a smooth wash of flesh over the skull socket. This unsettling facial image was made all the more rugged by the lines of silver snaking through his aging hair and a single stern grey eye.

"They are ready for you on the parade ground… for the executions sir…"

The guardsman continued to stand, shaking in his boots, as the Commissar pushed himself up and out of the large leather chair. Viktor's large grey overcoat clung to his body, even his one good leg dressed with a knee high leather boot. The other leg was a metal peg, stumped, because the aging officer absolutely refused to accept any cybernetic augmentations.

With a certain degree of grace the Commissar adorned his eagle emblem officer's cap, and with his peg leg, tapped his way across the wooden planks forming a floorboard for this tent. Both he and this guardsman exited the command post unceremoniously into a dessert military camp where hundreds of vehicles were lined up in rank and file formation alongside other canvas tents.

Men and women of the guard parted ways for the rugged monster as he stepped through the sandy paths of the military camp eventually coming to a large rock platform where eight Ash-kin, the name reserved for a group of local dark elder pirates, sat upon the their knees with their hands bound behind their backs. A firing line of guardsmen in black hoods stood behind each Eldar pirate just in case they managed to break loose.

"Savages," muttered one of the assembled guardsmen assembled in rank and file parade formation before the stage.

Viktor nodded approvingly. These foul Xenos had enacted a large butcher's bill upon the 789th before their raiding party was cornered and all but slaughtered. These last few 'aliens,' the word made Viktor cringe, were those that had surrendered.

At first the Commissar was loath to accept the idea of their surrender, but then he had an idea to increase both troop morale and 'deal' with these foul creatures. Oh, and they knew that they were going to die, but there in lay the problem. These sycophantic creatures actually enjoyed the pain that came from the sensations of death. For them, an execution was a thing to be pleasured. So, Viktor had to be creative. He had to figure out a way of executing these foul creatures while making the action somewhat meaningful and most importantly of all... cruel. This was something that he eventually achieved.

"Guardsmen!" he yelled once upon the stage, gathering their full attention. They all went rigid to the sounds of his voice with that peg leg tapping upon the stone decking as he arrived center stage before them.

"Today we shall bear witness to an execution of these foul detestable beings. They and they alone are responsible for the deaths of many of our fellow men at arms, and now they shall pay the price for their actions."

In the background the Eldar sat upon their knees with their wrists bound behind their backs. Most were smiling in eager wicked anticipation for the pleasures of agony soon to come. Viktor looked over his shoulder, that one grey eye shining with a sense of glee as he took in the scantly leather clothed male and female Xenos with their slim figured bodies, alabaster skin, and sharp pointed ears.

"For your kind, death is a thing of pleasure. You take sycophantic pleasure in the murdering shots or goring blades. But, what we desire most of all is for you to suffer for your crimes. Thus, I have devised a new method of execution just for you…"

The crowd gasped and muttered amongst themselves at the very idea of a new form of execution devised by this Commissar. As if he was in-content haunting his own regiment, now he was being creative and original whilst tormenting others not directly under his authority. Likewise, the dark elder were taken aback by the new turn of events. The sounds of a transport sled caught everyone's ears, and soon faces turned towards the shapes of eight canvassed objects being pulled into the parade grounds.

"Your deaths will be in isolation. No food or water, and no means of consuming human souls. You will be totally cut off and allowed to slowly be consumed by the foul abominable Chaos God of your own creation."

The Eldar watched as the canvas drapery was torn away to reveal several large metal cubes, thick, so thick that no pysker mind could penetrate them. Instantly, the faces of glee and eager anticipation upon the detestable Eldar were replaced with fading allusions of dread and fear.

The guardsmen watched as these creatures were drug to their feet and forced into these metal cubes. Many of the foul creatures openly resisted out of fear, begging on the spot to be shot, some of the wretched monsters were even crying. As each cube was sealed with welding equipment a small knife was dropped into their cages, "For when you get hungry," said Commissar Viktor to each alien.

These cubes, they were placed out into the open of the parade ground. Guardsmen continued about their duties for hours, then days, and then weeks. Every once in a while one of these men or women would hear a foul shriek inside one of the metal cages, a scream of agony, or possibly smell a hint of blood or bodily waste.

By the end of week two Commissar Viktor returned to his stone stage and had each cube reopened. Guardsmen, men and women who had seen the true horrors of war, shrieked upon the removal of each alien corpse. Some of these creatures had starved to death and looked like emaciated skeletons. Others had used their donated knives to cut away flesh from their own bodies for sustenance in order to stave off their horrific deaths. They all had faces contorted in fear and agony rather than pleasure and joy. But, the eyes, those eyes vacant of any semblance of a soul… empty… … consumed by She Who Thirsts… that was the real punishment.

All of the assembled guardsmen watched the Commissar stand upon the stage as he burst out laughing as each alien body was lynched and put on display, "Behold your foul Xenos wretches!" he yelled, "Where guns and swords have failed, sometimes the best weapon of all is fear and slow dreadful death."

Each assembled guardsmen trembled in terror after having since realized that this was the real monster that made sure that they could never EVER retreat from battle. And, if they were ever foolish enough to turn their backs to the enemy, Emperor only knew what horrific death might greet them later from this foul mans imagination.


End file.
